


i'll be gentle, don't you scream

by jhopefulyoongi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Beating, Biting, Blood and Violence, Bottom Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Bruises, Car Sex, Cigarettes, Coma, Consensual Sex, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gang Leader Jeon Wonwoo, Gang Leader Kim Mingyu, Gang Leader Xu Ming Hao | The8, Gang Violence, Gangs, Hair-pulling, Head Injury, Heartbreak, Knives, M/M, Motorcycles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), References to Drugs, Revenge Sex, Rivalry, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stabbing, Tattoos, Thug Xu Ming Hao | The8, Top Kim Mingyu, Top Xu Ming Hao | The8, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-03-26 08:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13853772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhopefulyoongi/pseuds/jhopefulyoongi
Summary: mingyu loves pissing minghao off, and sleeping with minghao's ex, junhui, who minghao probably still loves, is probably the most fun way for him to do it.or: minghao and mingyu despise each other, everyone loves jun, and another shocking force comes from seemingly nowhere





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a warning to PLEASE READ ALL THE TAGS bc this fic is gonna be fuckin wild. pls also note that like many of my other fics tags will likely be added as the story progresses 
> 
> title from ride by somo bc its all i listened to while writing the first 700 words or so

Junhui was a drooling mess in his lap, but Mingyu didn't really notice. He was too busy digging bruises into his hips, dragging him up and down on his cock. Making the elder scream his name and clutch onto his shoulders was far more important. He was so needy it made Mingyu smile in satisfaction, hearing Junhui croon his name in between his little whimpers, tears slipping down his cheeks as he rode Mingyu’s cock more desperately than anyone else he had ever fucked.

 

 

He wondered if Minghao had ever fucked Junhui this good, and then immediately snorted and doubted it. Dusting that thought to the side for the time being because he had to give his best performance, though it wasn't as if he had been trying too hard for the last few minutes, Mingyu grabbed Junhui around the thighs and raised his hips up and off his cock, relishing in his displeased whine when his length was taken from him. Mingyu laughed to himself and held Junhui in place before he plunged back into him, not letting him move and making sure he stayed where he wanted him.

 

 

Junhui didn't seem to have any arguments about it since he threw his head back and nearly screeched because of the new angle. His upper body fell forward, his arms and chest encasing Mingyu’s head as he clung even harder onto him, his nails biting into the flesh and muscles of Mingyu’s back as he repeated his name like a mantra, sobs leaving his throat between his shrieks of pleasure and high pitched wails of Mingyu’s name.

 

 

One of Mingyu’s hands slid down Junhui’s hip and grabbed his ass instead, making Junhui squeal before he panted harshly against Mingyu’s hair, the smell of alcohol and citrus fanning down into Mingyu’s face. Mingyu remembered the lemon drop shots Junhui had been doing at the bar and instead of feeling disgusted he reached up and grabbed Junhui by the back of the neck, dragging his face down to kiss him roughly, tongue dancing around the taste as he let Junhui’s bottom half fall back down in his lap, leading him back into the rhythm of riding him as he devoured Junhui’s lips, biting them and kissing them so harshly they would bruise just like his body.

 

 

He thought of Minghao seeing the bruises he would leave behind all over Junhui’s body when he checked up on his ex like he so often did, and the thought made him fuck Junhui harder, hands tightening where they were so harshly that Junhui yelped.

 

 

“Sorry, baby.” Mingyu said, taking his hand off Junhui’s neck and letting it run down his spine instead. Junhui seemed to accept the apology because he quickly went back to kissing Mingyu eagerly and rutting his hips down to get Mingyu further inside him. His desperation was cute and a sign he would be coming any moment, so Mingyu grabbed Junhui and moved them so that Junhui was pushed up against the car door before he threw his legs over his shoulders, ankles crossing behind Mingyu’s neck before he drove back inside of him, Junhui’s limbs flailing around him before they all tightened back up, constricting around Mingyu’s body like a snake.

 

 

Junhui’s inner muscles constricted around his cock as well, making Mingyu’s eyes flutter as he plunged deeper into him, letting the warmth surround him, clamping tightly down and trying to keep him inside. Junhui was no longer saying any words that were coherent, simply letting out random gurgles of both Korean and Mandarin words that didn't make any sense when laced together, cries and whimpers mixing in with his begging tone that made Mingyu’s eyes roll back into head, a sharp hiss leaving his mouth when Junhui tightened around him so harshly it almost hurt, and he made sure to look down and watch as Junhui screamed and came all over himself on Mingyu’s cock, his own dick completely untouched with his spurts of come trickling down the length and down into his navel, which ran down to where his body met with Mingyu’s. Mingyu didn't think anything of it and let himself fuck Junhui, the boy’s own come acting as more lube for them.

 

 

Junhui’s toes were still curling when Mingyu came inside of him. His body jolted in surprise and Mingyu would have laughed if he currently wasn't trying to hold himself together even as his orgasm hit him with the same intensity as an eighteen wheeler. Mingyu held himself over Junhui until both their bodies stopped shaking, and almost toppled over from the shock when someone banged on the door Junhui was up against repeatedly.

 

 

“He’s coming, get the fuck out.”

 

 

Mingyu rolled his eyes at Jihoon’s words. If there was ever a person Mingyu would never rush himself for it was Xu Minghao.

 

 

He helped Junhui back into his clothes because he wasn't a _complete_ asshole before he grabbed his own clothes from the front seat and put them on, running his hands through his hair to put it back into place and putting back in his earrings as Junhui blinked sleepily next to him.

 

 

“Hey, doll,” Mingyu said, looking him over. “You alright?”

 

 

Junhui yawned like a kitten and looked at him, eyes exhausted. “Yeah, just tired.”

 

 

Jihoon threw the door open and barked at them, “Minghao is walking down the street,”

 

 

“Minghao?” Junhui said excitedly. While Mingyu had sobered up, Junhui was still just a bit more than tipsy and he got out of the car and ran on shaky legs out of sight. Mingyu got out of the backseat at his own speed and leaned against the side of it just to watch Junhui hurdling himself into Minghao’s arms, talking loudly and excitedly, tugging at his ink-covered arms and then wrapping them around his own body, leaning into Minghao’s chest and nuzzling into his bleached hair.

 

 

Minghao held Junhui by the biceps, confusion, and shock covering his face, and Mingyu knew the exact moment he saw the hickies covering Junhui’s neck and collarbones, saw the bruises on his hips and waist that peeked through his thin white shirt. Minghao’s eyes burned with a fury that made Mingyu laugh almost giddily, his laughing only increasing, becoming louder when Minghao looked past Junhui’s shoulder and saw Mingyu standing just a hundred or so feet away, his lips as bruised and his neck as decorated as Junhui’s.

 

 

Mingyu saw his hand twitch and knew that if Junhui wasn't pressed into his body so firmly, he would have his knife out in a second, and would be chasing him down the street and cornering him in an ally in the next. Instead, he wrapped both of his arms around Junhui and held him up, supporting most of his body weight so he didn't land in any of the questionable puddles on the sidewalk. Mingyu didn't see any of his usuals with him either, and since the alcohol was still running thru his veins, making him even more confident than usual, he walked towards Minghao at a leisurely pace, Jihoon cursing him out underneath his breath but falling him.

 

 

“You’re pretty doll was amazing, Hao Hao,” Mingyu used Junhui’s old pet name for the other man cruelly, wearing a smirk. “Thanks for letting me play with him.” He winked at Minghao, loving the anger and hate in his eyes before he nodded down the street and he and Jihoon disappeared around the corner in a matter of seconds.

 

 

Minghao was thinking of how quickly he could get someone to come get Junhui so he could get to Mingyu before he got too far when Junhui whined loudly and shoved his face into his neck,

 

 

“Minghao," Junhui groaned against his skin. “I’m so tired, can we please go home?”

 

 

“You really fucked Mingyu?” Minghao asked, almost demanded. But he lifted Junhui up and allowed the older man to wrap his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist, holding him by the thighs while he walked them both towards the car, doing his best to accept that tonight wouldn't be the night that he got back at Mingyu.

 

 

“Why do you care?” Junhui slurred. “We’re not together anymore, you don’t love me.”

 

 

Hell, if only Junhui knew just how wrong he was. If only he knew nothing was different from how it had once been, at least for when it came to Minghao's feelings for him. 

 

 

But tonight was not the night for that either.

 

 

It was what Minghao needed Junhui to think, and he planned to keep it that way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i updated tags pls take note of all of them before reading pls and thank you

Minghao sat at the end of his bed, applying unscented lotion to his newest tattoo. He still remembered Junhui doing this for him back for him when he got his first tattoo, the dainty infinity sign on his shoulder blade out of his reach. A centimeter or two above the left side of the symbol was the beginning of one of the wings that decorated his upper back. Two massive wings covered each of Minghao’s shoulder blades, outlined and detailed with the common black ink. Inside, the wings were shaded and colored a rainbow of watercolors, purple, blue, red, orange, yellow, green. The colors continued down onto the feathers that had fallen from his wings, cascading down his back, turning gray and white on the very edges.

It was a beautiful design, some of Junhui’s best work when he was younger. Junhui wasn’t the artist who had put it on his skin, he was much too squeamish for that, terrified of needles to the point that he didn’t have any tattoos himself, despite his fascination and appreciation for them. Junhui had made the design with a pencil and a couple of broken wax crayons on a napkin at a rest stop somewhere between Liaoning and Jiangsu the summer before they would move to Korea.

They were still young then, and even back then the world seemed to want to keep them apart. If the world meant Junhui’s parents. Minghao still remembered Junhui telling them he and Minghao had broken up, and heartbroken, he wanted to study Fine Arts in Seoul instead of back home in Shenzhen.  His parents had been all to happy to agree, sending him off with kisses and hugs at the airport while Minghao watched from a couple yards away, mask pulled over his face, hair dyed an obnoxious platinum blond.

Junhui hadn’t seen his parents since then. When they got older, Minghao started feeling guilty about it, but Junhui told him it was okay.

He was always telling Minghao that.

A soft moan came from behind him, and he pulled on his shirt before Junhui could even sit up in bed all the way. Junhui looked around, looking like a fluffy, confused kitten, until his eyes fell on Minghao and his eyes hardened, body language screaming defense.

“What happened last night?” Junhui asked, glancing down the loose clothing Minghao had put on him after he had thrown up all over himself in the front foyer.

Minghao snorted and turned away, trying and failing to hide how pissed he was. “You don’t remember?”

“I remember…” Junhui started and then trailed off.

“ _What?_ You remember getting fucked by Mingyu and then running to me afterward?”

“You didn’t have to bring me home,” Junhui said.

“You asked me to.”

“Well if you’re so pissed about me fucking around with someone else why did you even bother listening to me, then?” Junhui demanded. He got out of bed and turned around in a circle or two before he spotted his clothes from last night, now cleaned and folded, sitting on the edge of Minghao’s chaise lounge. He stripped off the clothes Minghao and put on him and left them in a heap on the floor while he stomped around, pulling his own clothes back on.

Minghao didn’t answer him, he just sighed and leaned back on his hands, watching as Junhui sat on the floor to pull on his socks.

“Thanks, I guess.” Junhui mumbled when he was all dressed and back on his feet. He was making a fuss about it, but he knew that a lot of bad things could have happened to him if Minghao hadn’t brought him home and he had been left to wander the streets all by himself at night, drunk and not completely in his right mind.

“You know I’ll always look after you, Jun,” Minghao said as casually as he could. “Even honorary members are still considered one of us, after all.”

“Right,” Junhui said stiffly, back to Minghao the whole time. “I should go.”

“See you around, I guess,” Minghao said, pretending to find his nail buds much more interesting.

“Yeah,” Junhui said, so softly that Minghao could barely hear him.

Minghao didn’t look up until he heard Junhui go down the hallway and walk down the stairs. When he did, he let out a sigh and laid back down on the bed.

...

Two nights later, Junhui was back at another club. He was dressed just as he had been the other night, but this time with fishnets covering his legs instead of a pair of torn up jeans. A silk black shirt with a low collar showed off his neck and collarbones, dipping down to show off plenty of his smooth skin, and a pair of black denim shorts hugged his hips. His purple hair, long legs, and the thick velvet choker around his neck called for the attention of everyone in the room who might be interested in spending their night with a pretty boy.

Of course, none of them were who Junhui really wanted. Who he really wanted stepped into the club twenty minutes after he did, looking irritated as he swept the room with his eyes. Junhui smirked and took a sip of his drink, one could always trust Hansol to run off to Minghao the moment Junhui, or anyone, really, started doing something Minghao didn’t approve of.

Hansol was a dear, really, he was, Junhui had practically raised him for the last five years, so he absolutely adored him, but he couldn’t track anyone without being seen to save his damn life.

“You look pretty tonight, doll.” A voice said from behind him, and Junhui felt a blush start to blossom on his cheeks, his smirk withering down into a shy smile as he turned his head and found Kim Mingyu nearly pressed into his back.

“Do I?” Junhui asked, turning around, keeping himself pressed up against Mingyu as he ran a finger up the length of his shirt, stopping at his shoulder and then tracing the broad line of it.

Mingyu grabbed his wandering hand and Junhui watched with pleased eyes as Mingyu started kissing the inside of his wrist. He pulled Junhui closer to him and murmured in his ear, “Looking like you just stepped out of my dreams,” and Junhui couldn’t stop the shiver of pleasure that ran up his skin.

It had been so long since he felt like anyone truly desired him. Minghao had stopped wanting him months ago, and everyone else who eyed him at the club just wanted to take him home, use his body to warm their bed for the night. But Mingyu had come back, if he had just fucked Junhui to get back at Minghao for something, he wouldn’t have to do it a second time, right? They both knew one only had to get on Minghao’s bad side once to truly provoke him.

So Junhui leaned up on his tiptoes and asked Mingyu, voice slurred from his drink, “Do you wanna live your dream?” If he was sober, he might have cringed at how cheesy it sounded, but he wasn’t.

Mingyu gripped the back of his neck and smirked against Junhui’s lips when he kissed him.

…

Mingyu swung Junhui up into his arms, holding him midair as he devoured the elder’s lips, biting and nipping at them before he slammed Junhui up against the wall of one of the back rooms and began unbuttoning his shorts, slipping a hand inside of them and reaching to cup Junhui’s straining length in his hand. He squeezed his length tightly and listened to Junhui’s sharp inhale, eyes rolling back in his head as Mingyu shoved his shirt halfway up his torso and started teasing his nipples with his free hand, keeping Junhui up with nothing by the strength in his hips.

He continued down the path of teasing Junhui until he couldn’t help but beg for more until an agonizing pain exploded in his lower side.

“Fuck!” He screamed, dropping Junhui by accident and almost crumbling to the ground, only staying up by grabbing the side of the bed frame. “You son of a bitch,” Mingyu spat at Minghao, who wiped off Mingyu’s blood from his knife on his jeans before tucking it back into its holder.

“Stay away from what’s mine,” Minghao warned him before he grabbed Junhui and hauled him out of the room.

“Fucking bastard,” Mingyu growled, before pulling out his phone, one hand over the wound, and calling Jihoon.

…

“What have I told you about randomly stabbing people?” Junhui asked Minghao when they were home. “One day you’re going to get your ass thrown in prison, Hao, and I won’t be around to save you like last time.”

“Shut up,” Minghao snapped. “Mingyu should keep his hands off what’s mine,”

“I’m-“ Junhui was cut off by Minghao shoving him up against the wall and kissing him so hard his lips would surely be bruised tomorrow morning. His lips stung, but he liked it, he kissed Minghao back just as forcibly and moaned when Minghao grabbed him and threw him down on the bed, already stripping off his bloody jeans and his elegant shirt and jacket. Before Junhui could even attempt to sit up, not that he wanted to, Minghao was on top of him, literally ripping his fishnets off his legs and tarring what remained down his legs and over his shoulder.

Minghao was always rough when he was pissed off. Junhui never had a problem with it, he got off on it, he had always loved it when Minghao snapped at him and threw him around a bit, and nothing had changed. He still remembered the first time they had had sex like this, so rough that it almost hurt but so passionate it blew his mind. It was when Junhui had been at boarding school, Minghao had fucked him so hard the headboard broke a hole in the plaster wall of his dorm room and someone down the hall called the police because they thought people were fighting.

A part of Junhui knew that his heart would ache more than his body tomorrow morning if he slept with Minghao right now, but most of him didn’t care. He wanted Minghao, needed him, craved his touch, the movements that would remind him of how things used to be, of how he wished things still were. So, against his better judgment, he tore off his own shirt and pulled Minghao snugly against him, tilting his head back and letting the pleasure crash over him as Minghao drew his legs up and slithered down the bed, licking a streak over his opening with his tongue before he shoved two of his long fingers inside of him.

“Fuck,” Junhui cursed, withering against the sheets as he pushed his ass down on Minghao’s fingers. Minghao always prepared him, even when Junhui told him he didn’t need to be prepared, even when they were both pissed at each other and fucked to get all those feelings out, just like they currently were.

“I don’t need it,” Junhui panted. “I don’t need it, please, just fuck me, please.”

Minghao bit him on his inner thigh. Not a gentle bite, or a little nip, he dug his teeth into Junhui’s soft flesh and bared his jaw down, making Junhui arch clean off the bed as the pain sprayed pleasure in his gut, already threatening to shove him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,” Junhui chanted under his breath, trying not to come. Minghao grabbed his hip and threw him down onto his stomach, laying down on top of him as Junhui whined pitifully into the sheets. Minghao’s fingers entered him again, stretching him out further while Junhui pleated for his cock instead.

When Minghao finally tore his fingers out and filled him with his cock, Junhui almost came right there and then, he really could have, but Minghao wrapped his fingers around Junhui’s length, keeping his orgasm from him until he felt like giving it to him. Junhui wasn’t mad, he couldn’t be, Minghao felt so amazing inside of him. He grabbed Junhui by his full hips and dragged him up onto his knees, leaving Junhui’s cock to dangle pathetically, head barely brushing against the sheets under him. Minghao pulled his cock out of his ass before he thrust his length back inside of him until he had nothing left to give.

One of Minghao’s hands left Junhui’s hips as he fucked him. Junhui screamed when Minghao grabbed a fistful of his hair and tore his head back, growling in his ear a jumble of incoherent nonsense that Junhui couldn’t understand even if he tried, but he didn’t really care at the moment.

“God, Hao, you feel so fucking good,” Junhui sobbed weakly into the mattress.

“No one can fuck you as good as I can, can they baby?” Minghao purred above him, hand coming down on Junhui ass and making him cry out, a smile crossing Junhui’s face immediately after as he rutted back on Minghao’s cock eagerly.

“No,” Junhui answered him. “No one, no one can,”

“Fucked him just to make me mad, didn’t you baby?” Minghao asked him, voice trembling, showing how close he was, but he didn’t stop talking. “You just wanted me to fuck you just like this, didn’t you?”

“God yes,” Junhui sobbed. “I did, I did, I’ve missed this so much, Hao, the way you fuck me, fuck, fuck,”

Minghao’s fingers disappeared in Junhui’s hair again, but this time it was to tilt his head to the side. They kissed one another, lips shaking as Junhui came against the bedding and Minghao followed just a moment after, filing Junhui with his come.

Junhui’s knees gave out and he laid flattened against the bed, Minghao on top of him, stroking his hair and kissing the side of his face.

…

“Last night was a mistake.”

Clink.

“It didn’t mean anything,”

Crack.

“I know I gave you the wrong idea, Jun, I’m sorry.”

Shatter.

“I hate you,” Junhui said, as his heart broke for the second time because of Xu Minghao.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mingyu need some milk (hao aint here to play g a me s m8 hes here to be confusing and win)
> 
> i fhshfh rly told yall this fic is much more intense and dark etc than my other fics 
> 
> twt: lemonjunnie  
> tumblr: junhuui


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags have been added

Junhui had been missing for over a year.

Fourteen months and two days, to be exact.

He wasn’t officially missing, of course. For that Minghao would have to go to the cops, and they were already always on his ass for one thing or another. Besides, if he couldn’t find Junhui, there was no way that any of them would be able to. Minghao had access to all police databases and resources, as well as to many illegal ones.

At first, he hadn’t realized Junhui was gone. He thought he was just upset with him, but after a month or two passed and Junhui didn’t pop up anywhere, Minghao became concerned. He went to Junhui’s place-and found it empty. An inch of dust covered all the left behind furniture, and as far as Minghao could see, there was no evidence of a robbery or a kidnapping. There were a few things missing-some of the pictures Junhui had once had on the walls, including a dozen or so of the two of them, his favorite articles of clothing, his passport and other important documents, his laptop. And his cat. The cat, Tangerine, that Minghao had given to Junhui for his birthday three years ago was also gone, as well as all of her things.

He considered that Junhui had gone home to China. He called his contacts in Shenzhen, Beijing, Shanghai, Wuhan, and Chengdu-no one had seen him or heard from him. His connections there reached out to there own connections, his connection in Shenzhen even checked in with Junhui’s parents without saying what he was around for, but he was nowhere to be found.

Minghao then searched all of Korea for his ex-lover. He had men from Seoul to Busan to Ulsan to Gwangju. He even had Seungkwan go to Jeju and look for him, but there was no trace of Junhui that he could pick up on.

But that didn’t mean Minghao simply gave up. He promised Junhui he would always take care of him, always protect him, and he needed to make sure he was okay.

And if he wasn’t okay, well, if he was alive, Minghao would help him until he was okay, and if he was dead, Minghao wouldn’t stop until whoever was responsible for his death was dead as well, even if it was himself.

Dead or alive, Minghao would find him. If he had to swim from there to Antarctica through shark infested and freezing waters to bring Junhui back alive, he would do it. If he had to dig twenty feet deep to recover his love’s body, he would do it. It didn’t matter to him what he had to do, he would do it without a thought, and he didn’t care about who or what got in his way.

Minghao knew it was his fault.

He had broken Junhui’s heart. Not just once, but twice. He knew Junhui had hoped them fucking would mean something—and it had, but Minghao couldn’t tell him that. But he told him it didn’t mean anything, that it was a mistake, he sent Junhui home in tears, and that was the last time he ever saw him.

_I hate you_

Those were the last words Junhui had ever said to him _. I hate you._ Minghao probably deserved to be hated. No, he definitely deserved to have Junhui hate him.

 _I’m sorry, baby._ Minghao crushed his burning cigarette out and threw it over the side of the building, letting it land in the puddle of rainwater in the alleyway down below. _I hate myself too._

…

“Well, shit,” Jihoon said, “You look like fucking hell,”

“I got out of a coma a week ago, asshole,” Mingyu spat at him. “What the fuck do you want me to look like?”

“Like a corpse so I could take over,” Jihoon responded, taking out a cigarette and offering him one. Mingyu shook his head and Jihoon shoved the pack back in his jacket. He didn't smoke himself, just had the habit of carrying them around for Mingyu. He had gone eight months without it though, and Mingyu didn't crave it anymore. 

Of course, Jihoon was not being serious, and they both know it. Jihoon had never had the desire to run such a shitty gang, and he was only in it to help Mingyu along, knowing how fucked he would be without him.

Minghao had, eventually, come to suspect Mingyu to be the one behind Junhui’s disappearance. A little over eight months ago Minghao had finally tracked Mingyu down and gotten his hands on him. Mingyu had been out of the country for a few months, trying to make connections in Japan and Thailand. Minghao got the info from a third party about Mingyu’s return date and ambushed him at one of his warehouses.

Mingyu wasn’t a bad fighter. Of course, he wasn’t. How could he be who he was and not be good at fighting? But no one could compete with Minghao when he was mad and when Junhui was thrown into the mix. During his interrogation, Minghao had gotten just a bit too rough, and maybe slammed Mingyu’s head into the concrete floor, giving him a small brain injury that made him fall into a light coma.

Mingyu had shot Minghao twice before in the past and almost killed him when he ran Minghao over with his motorcycle. Minghao stabbed him and then put him in a coma a few months later. Accidentally, might he add.

Fair is fair, right? They considered themselves to be even. Not like Mingyu had missed much, his gang stayed low and stayed out of the way of other groups. They lost some territory and some money, but they knew once Mingyu was awake they would get it all back and then some.

His hair was still choppy and uneven from whoever had tried to cut it while he was sleeping-probably Seokmin, so Mingyu couldn’t find it in himself to be mad about it. He was paler than usual, he had lost over twenty pounds, and he was still trying to get used to being conscious once again. If he was in a normal hospital they would have kept him in for months, set him to rehab and everything, but all they had was Soonyoung watching over him and trying to keep him alive until he woke up.

He convinced Soonyoung that it would make him feel better if he wasn’t locked up underground, and Jihoon was supposed to look after him, as always.

“Do you want me to act like we’re not going towards Minghao’s place right now?” Jihoon asked him, pulling up beside him on his bike and popping up his helmet to speak to him at a red light.

Mingyu ignored him and took a sharp corner when the light turned green. He was obviously not supposed to be driving either, let alone be on his bike, but he wouldn’t be kept off of it, and he wouldn’t let anyone drive him around either.

Mingyu swerved into the back alley of Minghao’s main building, pretending not to notice the guards on top. He got off his bike and leaned up against it, Jihoon letting out a sigh as he did the same, shaking his head.

“Just got out of a coma and want to put yourself in another one,” Jihoon snorted under his breath. Once again, Mingyu ignored him, watching the back door. It was a simple, unmarked door, but it was the only way out the back that was clearly visible and likely where Minghao would be coming out from. The time that he would be coming out really depended, Mingyu knew. If he was out, it could be hours, but Mingyu had no troubles with waiting.

He didn’t have to wait for hours.

The back door slammed open and Minghao came walking out casually, a cigarette hanging from his lips and his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his black jeans. The laces of his black boots weren’t done very tightly, and his blue and white plaid button up was left open, a black tank top underneath that was tucked into the jeans. He looked much less put together then he usually did. His black hair had grown longer and he kept it tied back in the smallest bun in existence, just at the meeting of his neck, half of it falling out and hanging around his head.

Minghao took his cigarette from his lips and let out a puff of smoke. “Shame,” he said casually, glancing at Mingyu as if he was a piece of wall art and not another gang leader that he had an ongoing feud with. “I hoped you would have just gone and died.”

Mingyu blinked at him passively. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to put in a little more effort to get rid of me, Minghao.”

“Don’t really have time for it,” Minghao said. “Got shit to do, you know?” Minghao gestured to him in general as if Mingyu needed reminding that he had been put into a fucking coma for more than half a year as if he had to remind Mingyu as to _why_ the beating had happened in the first place.

“He’s still missing?” Mingyu asked, frowning. One may have thought Mingyu would hold some type of grudge against Junhui, considering he was the reason Minghao had came after him. But he knew the boy was sweet, kind-hearted in a way that was rare for someone who lived in their world. He probably wouldn’t have wanted for Mingyu to get his head slammed in. It's not like Mingyu didn’t know what he had signed up for when he decided to live like this, after all.

“Do you guys not tell him anything?” Minghao asked Jihoon offhandedly.

“He woke up just seven days ago, there were more important things to tell him. Like, oh, I don’t know, shit that concerns his own gang.” Jihoon replied, rolling his eyes.

“Fair enough,” Minghao allowed.

“So-“ The three of them all jumped in shock but reached for their weapons nonetheless when a black van came skirting down the alleyway, someone in a red leather jacket on a Harley whizzing in front of it and right towards them.

No, towards Minghao. The guy skirted to a stop and took off his helmet, looking offputtingly unbothered by the guns pointed at him. The van came rushing towards them, and men on the roof shot at it until Minghao told them to shut the fuck up with that shit until he said otherwise. Minghao adjusted his grip on the gun and glared at the chestnut-haired person staring at him, looking all too relaxed despite being on Minghao’s territory, so close to where he ran the majority of his life.

“Xu Minghao,” The biker said, voice dry and uninterested. “Message from Jeon Wonwoo.” Minghao’s brow shot up before he could think about it. Jeon Wonwoo? What the hell would he want from Minghao? They worked in different areas and hardly ever crossed paths. Wonwoo seemed content with his part of Seoul and hardly ever wandered down into the Gangnam area.

“Who?” Mingyu asked. Minghao wanted to snap at him for being so out of the loop, but then he remembered that was kind of his fault and decided to give the other man some clue, so he wasn’t completely lost.

“Runs his own gang up in Nowon,” Minghao said right as Jihoon looked at Mingyu and simply explained, “He’s new.”

“I would listen if I was you,” He snapped at Minghao, making him look back at him. He looked mildly irritated, like being ignored was his biggest trouble of the day so far.

“And why should I?” Minghao asked. “What does Jeon have to say that I want to hear?”

He smirked at Minghao, looking so smug that Minghao would have punched him if he already wasn’t so annoyed and just wanted him to get the fuck away from his space. He would send up someone later to see Jeon and make sure he knew to keep his little pests up there with him.

The biker started up his Harley and turned to Minghao, and said something that shocked him to his very core.

“If you ever want to see Wen Junhui alive again, you’re going to have to see Wonwoo.” And then as fast as he had appeared down the alley, he was driving towards the opposite end, where the other exit was. The black van pulled up and before Minghao could react he watched, completely horrified, as Junhui’s gagged face was shoved up against the window in the back. He screamed against his gag and looked pleadingly at Minghao before the van took off after the biker.

“Jun!”

The roaring of the bike disappeared around the corner. The wheels of the van squealed as it took off after their escort, and Minghao didn’t have time to think.

He shoved Mingyu to the side, took his bike, and followed right after them.

He was going to get Junhui back, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another poll will be up soon on twt now that this has been updated~  
> twt: lemonjunnie  
> tumblr: junhuui
> 
> also just thought i would add a disclaimer saying that i am not trying to romanticize smoking and cigarettes, there's a reason why minghao smokes and it'll be addressed later on


	4. Chapter 4

A part of Minghao knew that he was running right into a trap. There was no way, under any other circumstances, that he would go to the home of another gang leader, and all by himself on top of it. The chances of him doing it and coming out alive were extremely slim, Minghao hypothesizing that it would be a bit under three percent or so. But even as he thought that he followed the van past the black iron gates of Jeon’s place, and didn’t turn back when he heard them begin to close behind him.

The only person he would throw himself to the wolves for like this was Junhui. If Minghao hadn’t seen him, he likely would have brushed the threat off as someone trying to get underneath his skin. But he had seen Junhui, the beautiful face that he hadn’t set his eyes on for over a year. Minghao couldn’t try to deny that it was him even if he had wanted to. He had gotten the perfect view, a look that was a mere two seconds long before the van pulled away, but it was enough.

He regretted not calling anyone for backup when the van pulls off of the drive and disappeared to the back of the manor, the high gat slamming shut behind it. Minghao didn’t know how to open it, and it wasn’t as if there was much he could do even if he did. He followed the biker to the front steps and turned off the borrowed-stolen-bike, and barely got the time to step out onto his own two feet when a gun was pressed into his back.

“Arms up,” someone ordered, and Minghao sighed, rolling his eyes as he lifted his arms up and the gun was taken out from his waistband, his knife taken from its ankle holster. Hands patted him down, and he regretted not coming out of the warehouse without another gun or two on him.

Well, it wasn’t as if he really needed them.

The original biker cursed as Minghao swung around and punched him square in the face. He backed up a few paces and swung back at Minghao, the leader cursing under his breath when it landed on his jaw. Before he could straighten back up, he was grabbed by his shirt and thrown backward right into the bike, both of them crashing to the ground, the red jacket clad biker following after him, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and punching him again. Minghao grabbed him by the neck and wrapped his fingers around the column of his throat, angry hisses of curses thrown at his face as his hand was scratched and the other hand wrapped around his throat, pressing down on his windpipe just as hard as he was pressing on his.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called out. “Stop it right now!”

Minghao took in a gasp of air as the hand around his throat relented and his hands were torn away off the others body, disappearing from his view as he got up off of him. Minghao was quick to stand up once the other body was off of him, and was prepared to defend himself again, but the biker had his back to him now-stupidly so, might he add.

Jeonghan, was it? The person who had-apparently-been the one to call his name came running down the front steps, soft hair floating around his face at his speed. His doe-like brown eyes were nervous and looked at Jeonghan anxiously as he approached and wrapped his arms around one of his.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan complained as Seungcheol pulled him back and slightly away from Minghao. “I was fine,” Seungcheol glared at him and he continued, “We were both fine,” which just made this Seungcheol person glare harder at him for a moment before he turned his gaze on Minghao and smiled brightly at him, sending a shiver up his spine at the unusual response.

“Minghao,” Seungcheol chirped at him, saying his name so warmly, still smiling. “Please excuse my husband, Wonwoo is expecting you, you can follow me to him.”

Husband? Minghao looked between the two of them, brow raining before he could stop himself.

“Problem with that?” Jeonghan asked, his bored and slightly irritated persona back in place.

“If you knew what Jun was to me, you would know I don’t,” Minghao replied. “But then again, maybe Wonwoo doesn’t tell you much.”

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan said through gritted teeth. “Get him out of my sight, will you?”

“Calm down,” Seungcheol told him, letting his arm go but rubbing his hand over it comfortingly before he stepped away. “Bring the bikes back to Jisoo and have him look at them.”

Jeonghan gave Minghao another glare but grabbed the bike Minghao had taken from Mingyu. Minghao watched him go, trying to figure out where he had touched to make the back gate open so he could wheel the first bike towards the back.

“Sir,” Seungcheol piped up, making Minghao turn his gaze back on him. “Wonwoo is ready for you, would you like to see him now?”

Minghao eyed the other up and down. His calmness and politeness irritated him, how could he act like this in such a situation? But at the same time, he felt like he his footing was uneven whenever Seungcheol spoke. He wanted to think about his actual situation, but the way he acted made it impossible. Minghao felt like a kid being spoken to by a teacher or something, he felt the need to be respectful and behave in front of him, an odd part of him afraid of disappointing the sweet smile and bright eyes that looked at him.

Minghao nodded, and Seungcheol told him to follow him. He was padded down again at the door, Seungcheol waiting patiently for him. Minghao looked around the house, at the pristine floors and ivory painted walls, at the decorative staircase and art pieces gracing the walls of the front foyer. Jeon really was full of himself, wasn’t he?

Seungcheol led him up the main staircase and down a few hallways, Minghao making sure to keep track of the turns and even how many paces he took to get to each one.

He planned on getting out of here alive. And if he had it his way, Junhui would be coming with him.

Minghao had seen Wonwoo only once before, nearly over two years ago now. They had both been at the same port that night, and Wonwoo had stood there in his black pinstriped suit, someone holding the umbrella for him and keeping him dry from the heavy rain. Junhui had been with him, Minghao holding him around the waist as he waited with him. They had both been waiting for the same person, but it didn’t really matter as long as one business didn’t affect the other.

That must have been when he first saw Junhui, Minghao thought angrily to himself, glaring at the calm and perfectly collected man that was sitting at the desk, his hands folded in front of him, giving Minghao a civil but fake smile when he entered.

“Minghao,” Wonwoo said, standing up and rounding the desk. “Its been a long time, nice to see you again.”

“Fuck off,” Minghao snapped. “Where’s Jun?”

Wonwoo laughed underneath his breath, his smile dropping and his eyes dropping their fake feeling of warmth and welcome. Wonwoo’s eyes were like pools of water on a dark night, black with an eerie light from the moon shining off of them.

“You are very business orientated, Minghao, you don’t get distracted by outside things when you want something,” Wonwoo said, looking at him seriously. “I like that about you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the other door slammed open and Junhui entered the room. But he wasn’t being dragged in or pushed in, or…or anything. He was just walking, all by himself, someone else having opened the door for him. And he went right to Wonwoo, letting the leader wrap an arm around him and kiss him on the temple as he pulled him close.

Minghao couldn’t do anything but watch in utter and complete shock. His heart was beating painfully hard in his chest, and he was pretty sure his jaw was going to be permanently hanging. He watched as Wonwoo trailed kisses down the side of Junhui’s face and felt sick to his stomach.

“I wasn’t lying, technically,” Wonwoo said to Minghao, even as he kissed Junhui softly on the corner of his mouth. “If you hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have ever allowed you to see him again.” Wonwoo placed his hands on either side of Junhui’s face and Minghao watched in silent horror as their lips met and Junhui moaned sweetly into the deep kiss. Junhui pulled away from the kiss, and, still tucked into Wonwoo’s side, he turned his head and kept his eyes down as he said softly,

“Sorry, Hao.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO ANYWAYSDFHSHHF
> 
> another poll will be put on my twt very soon. it might be the last one i do this month, since im going on vacation in just a few weeks, so make sure to let me know what fic you cant wait for me to update!
> 
> twt: lemonjunnie  
> tumblr: junhuui


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re going to let him kill me, Jun?” Minghao asked softly, a terrifyingly calm smile on his face, a crazed glint in his eyes as an unwell chuckle left his mouth, making the hairs on the back of all of their necks stand up on end.

Junhui gasped and his eyes widened. Wonwoo lifted his head up from its place on the top of Junhui’s and smirked, eyebrows raising as if he was intrigued by the thought of it.

“N-no,” Junhui tried to say, looking panicked at the mere thought. He tried to pull away from Wonwoo, but he caught Junhui around the waist and pulled him back, stopping him from trying to physically comfort or approach Minghao, and Junhui let him tug him back, doing nothing but pout slightly in a silent protest.

“You bring me here just to let this piece of shit kill me, Jun?” Minghao demanded. “You leave me and run off to him?”

“I didn’t leave you!” Junhui shouted back, looking close to tears. “Y-you’re the one who left me! You broke up with me and u-used me for your own pleasure- “Junhui gasped out a sob as if the mere memory pained him and he turned to hide in Wonwoo’s chest, the other man shushing him gently and running a hand up and down his back, holding him close to him, whispering words of comfort to Junhui.

Seeing Junhui in the arms of another man, sniffling and crying and looking to him for comfort, it hurt Minghao more than it had ever hurt him to see Junhui with another man sexually, hurt a billion times more than it had when he had walked in on Mingyu making his love squirm and whimper against the wall as he was pleasured.

Minghao would much rather die than have to see this for another moment. His end was coming anyway, and who would have thought it would come because of the betrayal of his love?

Minghao took off the plaid shirt that was hanging open around him, and then grabbed the back of his singlet to pull it over his head, letting it fall down to the floor along with the shirt he had been wearing. His actions caught the attention of the couple and Seungcheol, who still stood in the room with them, off to the side and nervously biting on his lips, eyes flickering between the couple and Minghao.

Once the shirts were out of the way, a full view of his tattoos was on display. The colorful wings and the infinity sign on his back, the plum blossom tree on his side that stretched out and covered on side of his ribs, a mural of the night sky on his left arm, the moon and the Gemini constellation on the inside of bicep prominent, highlighted by a few more colors than the rest of the constellations and the stars. His chest was bare except for the name tattooed across it, laying right over his heart in perfect, delicate scripture.

Minghao slapped his skin above his heart, blackened by the ink, marked by the name on him. “Do it,” Minghao snarled at Wonwoo, who blinked serenely at him as if he had forgotten Minghao was there and had just remembered. Wonwoo observed him for just a moment, and then he laughed softly.

He took Junhui by the arms gently and looked down at him, a raw love in his eyes that Minghao could not deny existed even if he had wanted to. He stroked Junhuis soft cheek once, and then said, “Seungcheol, take Junhui away, will you?”

“What?” Junhui asked, eyes widening in shock, but it was too late by the time Seungcheol grabbed him for him to fight. He picked Junhui up clean off the ground and carried him quickly to the other room, kicking and screaming the entire way there, another hand grabbing the handle and slamming the door shut after them.

Looking at Minghao, who was panting softly underneath his breath, he reached behind him and grabbed a hold of his gun, a simple black handgun that everyone seemed to carry, completely unmarked and void of any serial number that may let it be tracked.

He pointed it straight at Minghao, who glanced first down the barrel of the gun and then up to the emotionless face of Wonwoo, nothing showing any emotion but his eyes, that were dark and still filled with something akin to curiosity.

A loud shriek came from one of the walls, fists pounding at the door that had been locked. “You’re a lying son of a bitch!” Junhui wailed, his sobs loud and horrible as his voice went out, dragged away from the door. “You promised me you wouldn’t kill him! You liar! You user!”

“I’m doing this for you, kitten,” Wonwoo said plainly, loud enough that it could be heard from the other room and a horrible wail and screams of No! No! No! came from the other side, dying out once again as Junhui was dragged deeper into the house, further away from them, taken from the hall and even from the floor that they were on.

Minghao did not protest, he did not say another word, he stood there with his hands at his sides, staring at Wonwoo and waiting, waiting for the end of his life. In the lives that they lived, sometimes one thought about terrible things. Death was something that was always at one’s doorstep and could happen at any moment. When truly thinking about how he would die, Minghao had fantasized, hoped, though he knew the action was slightly insane, that he would die to protect the one that he loved, that somehow, despite how badly he had lived his life, he would have an honorable death.

In the end, he thought, he had been right. Almost, nearly right. Junhui had certainly had a hand in his death, despite how much he acted otherwise. Minghao wondered if Junhui genuinely mourned for him, or if it had simply been a show, something Junhui had done out of pity, so that he might have some comfort in his final seconds.

Minghao liked the thought of that.

Wonwoo approached him, eyes reading his face, he walked close enough that the only thing separating the two of them was his gun, pressed sharply into the name written across his chest.

Wen Junhui.

Such a pretty name, Minghao had always thought. And he had the thought again as Wonwoo cocked his gun and wrapped his finger around the trigger.

Wonwoo shot, a horrible bang echoing around the room, and a terrible, horrible, bone-chilling scream could be heard throughout the entirety of the manor and across all of its grounds. The main doors to the room flew open and Junhui came through, rushing to the unmoving and bleeding body that laid on the floor,

“Minghao!”

“You should remember this moment,” Wonwoo said.

Said to Minghao, who looked to him from the floor, from where he had landed after Wonwoo broke the vase of flowers that Junhui had picked for him just that morning, a feeble breath pushing past his lips as a trickle of blood ran down his forehead from the gash in it, debris falling onto his bare chest from the hole Wonwoo had shot into the ceiling.

“And know that I’ll always love and respect him more than you ever have,” Wonwoo finished, and then placed his gun back into its holder.

Wonwoo leaned down and kissed Junhui gently on the head. “I love you dearly, kitten,” Wonwoo crooned gently in his ear, and then rose to his feet, leaving Junhui there to rock his unconscious ex-boyfriend in his arms and weep over his open wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wild.   
> there will be another poll on twt for what fic i should update next soon~  
> twt: lemonjunnie  
> tumblr: junhuui


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates within twenty-four hours...i dont thin...ive ever done this
> 
> but i was already thinking about this last night after i posted chapter 5 and couldn't not post it so~ a very early update

Junhui didn’t want to be anywhere near Wonwoo at the moment.

He had spent a good ten minutes on the floor, holding Minghao in his lap and crying his heart out, trying to stop the bleeding with the sleeve of his sweater. Seungcheol and two of Wonwoo’s other men that he wasn’t as familiar with came into the room after that, carrying a stretcher along with them.

Junhui had ignored them, had cradled Minghao in his arms and held him tightly to him, silently refusing to let him go, not knowing what they were going to do with him. He didn’t trust Wonwoo at the moment, he didn’t care. As far as he knew, they might just let him bleed out in the garden or throw him down the river to dispose of him, and then they would have someone come to Junhui and tell him that Minghao hadn’t made it because he had lost too much blood.

Seungcheol was sporting a bleeding lip from where Junhui had elbowed him in the face, desperate to get away and to return to protect Minghao from Wonwoo, who he thought had truly betrayed him and intended on killing his past love.

“Let me take him, Jun,” Seungcheol said softly, crouching down to try to look Junhui in the eye. “We’re going to clean and stitch up his wound, and then we’ll put him on an IV drip and some medication.”

“I don’t trust you,” Junhui shrieked. “You’re going to kill him!”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Seungcheol said, looking a bit surprised by Junhui’s outburst. “I’m just following Wonwoo’s orders,”

“Were you just following Wonwoo’s orders when you hauled me out of the room and made me think Minghao was going to die?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol said, softly. “I was.” Junhui glowered at him and Seungcheol looked patiently back, the two of them staring each other down, and Seungcheol decided he had to open his mouth again, realizing Junhui wasn’t going to hand Minghao over.

“You might not trust me right now, Jun, but he’s going to bleed out if you don’t let me take him. If you give him to me, there’s a 99.9% percent chance that he’ll live,” Seungcheol said.

“More like 50/50,” Junhui hissed, but he made his decision. Minghao was still bleeding, he needed someone with actual medical skills to look after him.

Junhui whimpered at the sight of the blood draining down Minghao’s face and leaned forward, pressing a kiss from trembling lips against his forehead. “I’m sorry, Hao,” he choked out, and then let Seungcheol take Minghao without another word exchanged between the two of them, the other two men following Seungcheol out of the room.

He stayed sitting there for a moment, trying to wrap his mind over what had just happened, what he had just done.

Wonwoo had told him that his plan was to get Minghao to the manor. He _knew_ that. He had okayed it, telling Wonwoo that it wouldn’t bother him if Minghao came.

Wonwoo wanted to branch out, connect with other gangs, work with them, and even in some cases, like with Minghao’s and others, he considered them well enough to consider one day merging with. Junhui may have been suspicious of Wonwoo trying to use him to get involved with Minghao-but he had been the one to suggest Wonwoo making connections. Wonwoo’s group was large and powerful, but that could all go falling down too quickly for comfort, he needed other groups that may protect him if need be, he needed alliances. Wonwoo had thought on it long and hard but eventually decided Junhui was right, and then it was over a month before he asked Junhui about Minghao.

And he had agreed, he had said yes to the plan to lure Minghao in. Minghao was smart, he would never trust the word of another gang he didn’t know and blindly follow after them. Junhui didn’t believe that Minghao still had feelings for him, but if the man had a falt, and admittedly, Minghao had many, it would be his loyalty. Minghao said he would always protect Junhui, and he was a man who lived by his word. If Minghao thought Junhui was in danger because of Wonwoo, he would come for him.

Junhui dragged himself up from the door, feeling dazed as he left the office of his lover. Pieces of glass from the vase he had put the flowers in that morning stuck to his pants, and his sweater sleeve was dripping blood, spots of it staining the floor as he went up another flight of stairs to his room.

The room he and Wonwoo shared was on the top floor. The entire floor belonged to only the two of them, only a select number of people besides them allowed up there. There was their bedroom, a couple of other rooms, and a few other bedrooms that had never been used as far as Junhui knew.

But one of them would be being used today!

Junhui entered their bedroom and closed the door behind them, stripping off his clothes from top to bottom. He tried to take off as much glass as possible and tried to wash out the blood in the sink but eventually put them in a sealed bag before he put them in the hamper, adding a note on top of the bag, warning of glass and blood in case anyone got their hands on the laundry before he did.

He took a quick shower and then walked back into the bedroom, a towel wrapped tightly around himself as he went through his closet for clothes. He had just managed to pull on his sweater first when the door opened up, casting a light over his mostly naked body before it closed again. Without turning, Junhui grabbed whatever underwear and pants that his hands touched and pulled them on before he grabbed another outfit and a tote bag and threw them down on the bed. He intended to go to the bathroom and collect his toiletries, but a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and kept him from moving.

“Where are you going?” Wonwoo asked him softly.

“I’m sleeping across the hall for tonight, maybe the day after too, maybe all week, I don’t know! I just know I can’t share a bed with you right now, okay?” Junhui said before he pulled himself free and grabbed his things, wrapping them in another plastic bag before he put them on top of his folded clothes, going to walk over to his dresser for a few other things before he was grabbed by gentle fingers by the arm.

“You don’t have to leave, kitten,” Wonwoo said. “If you really want to be alone, I’ll go to another room.”

“Fine!” Junhui huffed and then spilled the contents of his bag back out onto the bed. If Wonwoo wanted Junhui to fight him on that, he wasn’t going to get it.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Wonwoo asked, sounding far more innocent than he deserved to at the moment.

“How could you put _him_ through that?” Junhui demanded with a broken voice, keeping his back to Wonwoo as he bit his lip and tried not to cry again. God, he felt like he was always crying when it came to these men in his life.

“I don’t really care about Minghao or his feelings,” Wonwoo said blazingly.

“But I do!” Junhui yelled, turning around to face Wonwoo angrily.

Wonwoo looked calmly back at him, and Junhui suddenly felt foolish, yelling Wonwoo so loudly when he was reaming so perfectly calm. “I’m sorry,” Junhui whispered, the tears bubbling up and not being able to stop them.

“No, I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said, reaching out to take Junhui in his arms, and this time Junhui did not pull away, but nearly collapsed into him, sobbing against his chest and clinging to him desperately. “I know you still care about Minghao, I shouldn’t have put either of you through that, It was highly insensitive and wrong of me to do.”

Junhui just sobbed in answer, his grip tightening and Wonwoo shushed him, rubbing his back and gently telling him that he didn’t have to cry, that they were okay, that Wonwoo could still leave for the night if he wanted some space, that he deserved to have some if that’s what he wanted.

Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door and one of the few people allowed on the third floor poked his head in when Wonwoo called for him to come in.

“What is it, Jeonghan?” Wonwoo asked, taking Junhui’s face gently in his hands and wiping his face clean of tears.

“Kim Mingyu is at the gate, Sir.”

Wonwoo looked up from Junhui’s face and smiled. “Wonderful.”


	7. Chapter 7

 “Wonwoo,” Junhui muttered, grabbing onto the sleeve of his lover. “Don’t…”

Wonwoo grabbed his hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles before he lowered his hand back to his side.

“I have too, kitten.” Wonwoo reminded him gently, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. He had recently dyed it a lovely dark brown that went so adorably well with each and every one of his lovely features. It was quite different from the hair color he had when they first met, but that didn’t matter much, as Wonwoo thought Junhui to be the most beautiful no matter what his hair color was.

“I have to get all of this handled, don’t you remember our plan?” Wonwoo asked him gently as if he was entertaining the thought that Junhui may not remember.

“The plan I came up with…” Junhui muttered, lowering his head in shame.

“Yes, that one,” Wonwoo said, not unkindly. He patted Junhui on the top of his head, smiling lovingly. “You really do have a wonderful mind, Junhui. I think you were made for this life.” Of course, he did not mean it to offend or hurt Junhui in any way, simply meaning it as a praise, as in his mind it is one, but Junhui felt a bit of shame because of it anyway.

Wonwoo grabbed his face gently, laying a hand on either of his cheeks and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead before he pulled back to follow after Jeonghan, who had stepped out into the hallway without having to be told to give the couple some privacy.

Jun paused for a moment but decided to come with him. Wonwoo and Jeonghan were halfway down the stairs when he finally caught up. Their conversation immediately died when Junhui came into view, but Wonwoo simply smiled pleasantly and offered him a hand to take. Making his way down the pristine marble staircase, Junhui took his hand and curled into his side, Wonwoo keeping them balanced even at their awkward positioning.

As soon as his eyes land on Mingyu for the first time, Junhui gasped and slapped a hand over his mouth.

“What happened to you?” Junhui asked, releasing Wonwoos arm and hurrying over to examine the man tied to the chair in the center of the room.

“What happened to you?” Mingyu shot back, having had long gotten the duct tape off of his mouth. Jihoon was tied up next to him, tied with ropes but with his duct tape still covering his mouth, looking oddly serene as he glanced around the room.

“It’s a long story,” Junhui muttered, examining Mingyu. “But I’m here because I want to be if that’s what you mean,”

“Can’t say I feel the same,” Mingyu muttered, and Junhui gave him an apologetic smile.

“Now,” He said, trying to distract him for a moment as Wonwoo got himself situated. “What happened to your hair?”

“Oh,” Mingyu said. “That. Bad haircut from one of my members after I woke up from the coma.”

“The c-What coma?” Junhui demanded.

“The coma that your ex-boyfriend put me in,” Mingyu said, looking annoyed at the mere memory, or maybe he was annoyed because of the mention of Minghao.

“What? When did that-“ Junhui whipped around and turned on his lover. “Wonwoo! Did you know about this?”

“We’ll talk about it later, kitten,” Wonwoo said and Junhui growled a colorful comment under his breath about the leader that he definitely heard but chose to ignore and finish going through the file he was glancing into.

“Well, we can’t have you walking around like this,” Junhui said, running his fingers through Mingyus dark hair, uneven and choppy. “How about I fix it for you?”

Mingyu grunted in affirmation, his eyes on Wonwoo as Junhui grabbed a pair of scissors and a comb from a drawer and walked to stand behind him.

“They’re not hair cutting scissors,” Junhui said apologetically as he combed through Mingyu’s hair, frowning when he saw that it looked even worse when it was all combed out.

“I don’t think you could make it any worse,” Mingyu said reassuringly and Junhui gave him a gentle smile and then apologized when he pulled at a knot in his hair. Junhui combs it out carefully and then grabs up the scissors, working from the bottom to the bottom. He cut the back and sides as short as he could get them and then cut the top to a point where it was more evened out.

“This okay?” Junhui asked him as Wonwoo threw the file to the side.

“How does it look?” Mingyu asked to amuse him. He wasn’t that worried about his hair considering he was convinced he was going to be killed in just a few moments by the hands of Junhui’s new lover.

“Very nice,” Junhui assured him. “But I don’t want it to be uncomfortable for you, will you be able to ride with it like this?”

“It was longer than this before,” Mingyu reminded him of how his hair was a few years ago. “So I’m sure this length will be just fine.”

“Oh well if you’re certain-“ Junhui stopped as a soft cough came from across the room.

“Sorry,” Junhui said, setting the comb and scissors down and looking around for a broom even though he knew there wasn’t any.

“Kitten,” Wonwoo said, taking Junhui by the waist as he walked passed to look around the desk. Wonwoo knew his kitten was just trying to stall for time in hopes that Wonwoo may let him stay in for this one.

There wasn’t anything they had planned out in particular when it came to Mingyu, but Wonwoo had been firm when he said he wanted to talk to him alone.

“Can you give us some privacy?” Wonwoo asked, rubbing gentle circles into his hip.

Junhui frowned, looking anxiously between Mingyu and then back to Wonwoo.

He did not want Mingyu to hear him ask, not wanting to man to be worried, even though he had a feeling that Mingyu was already thinking that this would end darkly for him, and Jihoon as well.

“Don’t hurt him,” Junhui told Wonwoo as firmly as he could manage. Wonwoo drew him close, hands on both of his hips, and kissed the place over Junhuis heart, as he was sitting on the desk and that’s where his mouth naturally reached.

“I won't ever break a promise I made you,” Wonwoo said, softly, not taking the time to manage his volume. “I told you I wouldn’t kill either of them, and I won’t.”

“And none of them either,” Junhui hissed, glaring at Jeonghan who was hovering a few feet away.

“They won't either,” Wonwoo assured him, taking both of his hands in his and giving them a soft squeeze. “I promise.”

Junhui gnawed on his bottom lip, looking anxiously into his eyes for a moment before he nodded his head and stepped back. He paused by Mingyu and patted his now freshly cut hair, Jeonghan bringing out a broom from somewhere and already sweeping up the mess.

“Don’t be scared,” Junhui told him in a whisper, and then hurried past so that Wonwoo would not get suspicious.

He hurried out of the door, sighing and leaning back against it. The conversation had not begun and only starts up after one of Wonwoo’s men showed up to bring Junhui to the floor below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twt: lemonjunnie  
> tumblr: lovetojun


	8. Chapter 8

Not a single one of the many temptations that Wonwoo had indulged in could ever compare to that of Junhui's warmth. 

 

Junhui was so warm, it dazzled Wonwoo every time. 

 

Every part of him was warm, his personality, his smile, his bright eyes, his body. 

 

Wonwoo sighed against Junhuis neck as he rocked carefully into his lover, Junhui moans muffled by the pillow that he clutched at like a lifeline, his hips shaking underneath Wonwoo's firm grip, goosebumps risen on his skin as Wonwoo's breath washed over his throat, the hairs there standing up as Junhui arched back against him. 

 

“Wonwoo…” Junhui got out, breathless, voice cracking as he rolled his hips back on Wonwoo, making his body swallow him back up, a hand reaching back to clutch at him, a loud sob climbing frantically out of his throat as he threw his head back. 

 

Wonwoo shushed him gently and tightened his hold on him, pressing his hips down sharply against the mattress and picking up his pace, Junhui letting out a choked out whine as he stuffed his head further into his pillow, fingers shaking as he so desperately held on. 

 

Wonwoo cursed as Junhuis hips twitch underneath his fingers, his thighs shaking and Wonwoo knew that he was close, one of his hands dropping down to massage his inner thighs for him, and Junhui doesn't last long then, shrieking into the pillow as he forces his hips back again, taking Wonwoo all in again as he releases against the sweaty cotton sheets he'd been getting shoved into for the last hour or two now.

 

Wonwoo held him gently as he finished himself off as well, lips gentle against Junhui's throat as he muttered to him, asking him it was okay for him to finish inside, if he was too sensitive and wanted him to pull out.

 

Junhui rocked his hips back in answer, telling Wonwoo to go ahead when the man still doesn't move, waiting for a verbal answer, something that tugs a whine out of Junhui's throat before he answers him. 

 

Wonwoo knew that at times like this, when Junhui was tired and emotionally exhausted, he didn't like to talk much afterwards, just wanted to hold and be held, to feel without words on his own part, to show rather than tell.  

 

Still, Wonwoo loved the sight of the way his body jerked and the choked noises that would leave him as he felt Wonwoo come inside of him, looking over his shoulder while panting to watch Wonwoo’s face, clenching tightly around him to help him along. 

 

After, Wonwoo got up and cleaned them both up, their breaths evened out, and he runs them a bath and then went and fetched Junhui, setting him down in it as he quickly stripped their sheets and covers and put down new ones, wrapping the dirty ones up and throwing them in the laundry hamper.

 

Then, he joins Junhui in the bath. He of course knew by now that Junhui actually didn't like baths all that much, as he always felt awkward in the little tubs, and didn't even like it much in the much bigger one, so Wonwoo made quick work of washing them both up properly, smiling when Junhui stretched his head back to lay a kiss on his throat, silently thanking him for being so considerate and careful. 

 

After, Wonwoo dried them both off and let Junhui carry himself back to bed, knowing that he liked to do so to stretch out his wobbly legs a bit, that if he didn't he would be more likely to fall down on his face in the morning.

 

Once he got to the bedroom though, Junhui was waiting for him, curled up underneath the covers on his sides, eyes sleepy but wide and searching for him, brightening up when he saw him finally coming out. 

 

Junhui reached out a hand for him, happily finally resting his head down a pillow, and Wonwoo went to him, taking his hand in his and intertwining their fingers together for a moment before he pulled Junhui close to him, pressing a kiss against his forehead as their bodies curled up against one another, Junhui letting out a content sigh as he leaned against Wonwoo's chest, one of Wonwoo's hands resting atop of his head, laced into his hair. 

 

Wonwoo felt the weakest at moments like this, but, for once, he did not mind it. 

 

....

 

Minghao woke up slowly, pieces coming back to him one after another. 

 

The first thought that he remembered having once he woke up was wondering what shade of green the glass over the ceiling light was, because he thought it was sea foam but he wasn't sure, and he thought that it would make a nice suit. 

 

His second thought about what color shirt would go good underneath it, or if he should just wear it on top of nothing, this hypothetical suit, he thought if he wore it during the late spring he would be in peak condition and it would be good if he wore it with nothing underneath it. But then again, a plum shirt, or even a dark green, would make for a very nice contrast. 

 

His third was to wander as to where he actually was. 

 

None of this could be heaven, nor hell, as far as he could see. In fact, when his vision cleared up enough for him to actually look around,to see anything besides the green glass light cover,  he found that nothing in the room looked all that different from normal reality at all.

 

Having an entire hospitals worth of machines and devices hooked up to him was a bit strange, if he was being honest, but it was not so far out of the ordinary that he questioned it.

 

And then, to his immense horror, he finally realized that he was very much so alive.

 

He laid there for a bit, wondering to himself why he was so shocked to be alive, and why he felt so tensed up and cautious, and if he wasn't so proud, scared, but he was, so he doesn't even think it to himself. 

 

And then he remembered, remembered Junhui's screaming, the sound of a gunshot, his own immense pain. 

 

Minghaos hand twitched by his side, and he felt relief when he found that he could move it as much as he wanted, his hand coming up to touch his other arm, where a IV had been inserted and was carefully filling his bloodstream with something or other. 

 

This didn't make much sense to him though. He had to still be on Wonwoo's lands, so why was he being kept alive? And not just kept alive, but being given things that would improve his health?

 

“Hao, are you awake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my last update of 2018 (even tho itll say jan 1st gfhhfhf its still dec 31 here) so i hope it wasnt too disappointing

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse for starting another fic tbh but here it is lmfjshff im gonna try to finally come up with a schedule so all my fics are updated on a more normal basis 
> 
> but anyways lemme know what you thought and if i should continue


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